Frank No. 2 by Frank Los Angeles; Pour Homme No. 7 by Cereus

Continuing with the manly flow initiated by yesterday's post, I'm pitting Frank No. 2 by Frank Los Angeles against Pour Homme No. 7 by Cereus. Both of them are recent creations, with Frank No. 2 debuting in 2005 while Cereus No. 7 made its appearance only last year; yet for how contemporary they are, it's remarkable how much they still rely upon the been-there done-that masculines of the past.
Frank Los Angeles so far has a grand total of three fragrances to its credit, and all of them are for men, so I give them props for market focus. They keep it simple, minimal and clean, and the price point is excellent -- not so high as to scare away the American male fragrance novice, and not so low as to seem drugstore cheap.
The fragrance itself, Frank No. 2, echoes the easy, direct style of its packaging even though it strains to live up to its marketing hyperbole ("magnetic and sensual, calm and elegant"). It opens with the usual sparkling bergamot, as if to say, "Here I am! A perfume for men! Don't be afraid! Buy me now!" (and here is where I admit to a growing weariness with bergamot, as it seems nearly every male scent in existence utilizes the darn stuff), but once the stereotypical brightness of the bergamot fades off, Frank No. 2 shifts gears into a medium-bodied cognac and roast coffee production with a hefty lash of lavender.
I understand that lavender has been used for eons in men's aftershave products as subliminal code for fresh, but is that really the not-so-lofty goal that Frank Los Angeles was reaching for -- a lightly gourmand floral? A bottle of whisky and lavendar? Why not just a nice woodsy-whisky and ditch the fussy floral element altogether?
The addition of coffee to the mix blunts the overt prettiness of the lavender a tad and lends the scent as a whole a somewhat yummy-edible quality, and I can easily see Frank No. 2 as a subtle, plays-nicely-with-others scent for the office. Just don't be surprised when the boss remarks upon the bouquet he's sure you're hiding under your desk, then asks for a cuppa with two creams and one sugar.
Cereus No. 7, however, plays a similar game with different rules. Cereus is a small men's fragrance company, much like Frank Los Angeles -- they have only four scents on offer, and their focus is exclusively male. Cereus No. 7 is probably the safest of the bunch, referencing the classic colognes while tweaking the formula ever so slightly.
No. 7 also starts off with the dreaded cheap bergamot note, and I swear to god I'm going to boycott anything with the word "bergamot" in the ingredients list from here on out (well, except for Clive Christian No. 1 for Men -- the bergamot used in that one is of such high quality that it may as well have been harvested from Pluto as far as the likes of Frank Los Angeles and Cereus are concerned). Opening a new bottle of scent only to have it smell initially like 95% of all the old bottles of scent already on the market is disconcerting, not to mention unnecessary.
Note to male fragrance producers regarding cheap bergamot: Stop It!
Now where was I? Oh, right -- Chandler Burr writes that Cereus No. 7 is "a standardized masculine, a well-done grandson of the deodorant metallic Cool Water that is perfectly competent, cannily commercial, blandly irrelevant." In other words, bergamot leads to violets leads to jasmine leads to woods and . . . wait! Does it really have to be so routine?
I mean, the vanilla-ish tonka bean is a decent touch, but not particularly eye-opening, if you catch my drift, and it certainly doesn't lift No. 7 above its rather pedestrian aspirations. Though Cereus No. 7 doesn't veer completely off into the food court like Frank No. 2, that doesn't mean it's any better a fragrance, and I'm thinking I might actually prefer the warm coffee and cognac of Frank No. 2 to the more sterile synthetic-wood and synthetic-leather drydown of Cereus No. 7 (which is nearly twice the price of Frank No. 2).
Cereus No. 7 is stronger and lasts longer than Frank No. 2, though. Points for that.

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